A mother's love?
by The Forgotten Nobody
Summary: Mama d'Artagnan isn't pleased when her boy doesn't see fit to come visit her so she decides to go to him and thoroughly embarrass him.
1. Chapter 1

Athos watched as d'Artagnan sparred with Aramis. The boy, whom they had only met mere months ago, had improved in leaps and bounds since joining their close knit group. Athos knew that within the year Treville would allow him to become a Musketeer, and with that he would officially be one of their group. Beside him, Porthos chuckled as Aramis gave d'Artagnan a false sense of security before knocking him onto his backside. d'Artagnan looked up at Aramis petulantly and, whilst speaking of how d'Artagnan should improve himself, extended a hand to him. d'Artagnan took that offered hand but instead of allowing him to be pulled up, took Aramis down with him whilst leaping from the floor himself to place a sword on Aramis' chest.

Porthos let out a full belly laugh at the site and d'Artagnan looked over to him with a small grin. Aramis too, was laughing and gracefully accepted the defeat, as cheated as it was. With no tricks, d'Artagnan hauled Aramis to his feet and the two walked over to their companions.

As they sat, Athos saw d'Artagnan look towards him out of the corner of his eye. Athos knew it was because, unlike the others, he had made no reaction towards d'Artagnan's stunt yet, for some reason, he was the one the boy sought the most approval from. Why d'Artagnan would choose a man such as he to be his apparent mentor, Athos would never understand, yet he humoured the boy whom he was beginning to grow fond of.

"You need to work on getting out of defence," he said, "and in a true dual what you just did would not be considered honourable". d'Artagnan looked a bit put out at his words, and so he continued. "Yet Aramis has never been particularly honourable so I dare say today you needn't worry about that." Now Aramis looked put out yet he took it all in good humour, especially when he noticed the way d'Artagnan's posture eased and he smiled.

"So, who's next?" He asked brightly.

"Young man, you put that sword down right now!"

d'Artagnan's eyes widened and his sword would have dropped even if the voice had not told him to, the shock he was in. The four friends all turned towards the source of the sound and a few feet away, bounding towards them, was a woman. She was fairly short, with tan skin and long dark hair tied into a messy bun. There was no doubt that in her youth she had been a woman of great beauty as even with her aging skin, she was still very pretty. It was a woman that none of the men had seen or met before, with the exception of one.

"Mama?"

Aramis raised an eyebrow to Porthos and mouthed 'mama?' In response, Porthos just shrugged and they watched the reunion play out in front of them.

"Don't you 'mama' me, where have you been? Do you have any idea what it's been like since your father died? I have had to sort out all the affairs myself, something I had hoped my son would do in such a time! Instead I find he has gallivanted off to France to become a Musketeer?! And he doesn't even have the decency to tell me so I have to wait until everything is sorted before I can go and find him to tell him what an idiotic child he has been!"

d'Artagnan had turned bright red and his mouth was slightly agape, still in shock that his mother was actually there. Behind him, Aramis and Porthos were trying to conceal their snickers and even Athos was poorly attempting to hide a smirk at the boy's embarrassment.

"Mama, please…," d'Artagnan pleaded but he wasn't allowed to finish. Madame d'Artagnan, also known as Isabelle, was a woman on a mission.

"Don't you turn those eyes on me, they will not work!" Isabelle was not a traditional mother as instead of doing what most mothers would, and hug their child after having not seen them for so long, she delivered a sharp smack to the back of d'Artagnan's head.

"Ow!" d'Artagnan complained but his mother was unsympathetic.

"You owe me an apology, right now!"

"Well I would have given one had you given me time and not interrupted me," d'Artagnan muttered sullenly rubbing the back of his head.

"What was that?" She asked sharply.

Averting his gaze, d'Artagnan lowered his head. "Sorry, mother."

"As well you should be! You have a lot of explaining to do my boy…oh, who are these fine strapping gentlemen?" Isabelle asked, distracted by the sight of his three companions. She turned to them with interested eyes.

"My name is Aramis," Aramis said with a charming smile, taking Isabelle's hand in his own and giving it a kiss. "And these are Porthos and Athos. We are friends of your son."

Isabelle had given a slight giggle at the kiss and looked at the three men appraisingly.

"Well, my son could certainly have done worse. You may call me Isabelle. Tell me, has he got in much trouble since he's been here?"

d'Artagnan's head shot up and he quickly signalled to his friends to keep quiet with wide, panicked eyes. Of course, good friends as they were they assured they would with a nod and d'Artagnan let out a silent, relieved sigh. However, his friends were not the most honest of men, and any chance for some fun could not to be left untaken.

"Oh well, he did try to kill Athos upon meeting him," Porthos shrugged and d'Artagnan instantly shot daggers at him.

"What?" Isabelle swivelled and pierced her son with an intense stare. "Is this true?"

"Well, yes, but….please let me explain!" He begged before his mother could go off on another rant. "There might have been a….misunderstanding but I assure you that everything was sorted out and there are no hard feelings."

Isabelle was still not pleased. "Anything else I should know?"

Aramis toyed with the idea of telling Isabelle of d'Artagnan's mission with Vadim but he decided it would only worry her and would not be humorous at all. The others had the same idea and also refrained from speaking of it.

"No, I would say that's it," Aramis said.

"Good. You have no idea what he was like as a child, always running around picking fights with the other children. They always had it coming of course, my son wasn't a bully after all, but my, did he have a temper! "Isabelle confided to them with exasperation.

Porthos laughed. "I believe he still has that temper madam, it's what caused Athos to be on the wrong end of his sword!"

At the remembrance of this, Isabelle gave a woeful sigh. "I do try and tell him to rein it in; I have no idea where he gets it from…"

d'Artagnan pouted, which really wasn't doing him any favours at that moment. "I wonder," he mumbled sarcastically, but his mother heard.

"Do not take that tone with me young man," she ordered, the temper of which d'Artagnan was calling hypocrisy over returning.

"…Sorry mother." Within moments of his mother's sudden arrival it was like d'Artagnan was a young boy again, his mother's strict rules of politeness coming back to him. He had not had a traditional upbringing as whilst most mothers left discipline to the father, Isabelle had not been afraid to dole out punishments herself and usually with greater effect. Not to say that d'Artagnan resented his mother at all, he still loved her dearly. Even if she was embarrassing him in front of his friends.

"You needn't be so hard on the lad," Aramis said, finally taking some pity on d'Artagnan. "He has been a fine addition to our small team and I have no doubt he will be a fine Musketeer that any mother would be proud of."

Isabelle then did something rather unexpected, considering her previous behaviour. She burst into tears and drew d'Artagnan into a tight hug. d'Artagnan looked at his friends with confusion, but they were equally surprised. d'Artagnan hesitantly returned the hug and patted her back gently.

"Don't cry mama, please…"

"Oh, my boy! Look at what you've got for yourself here! I know I have been harsh but I am proud of you and I know your father would be too if he could see you now."

d'Artagnan bit his lip and hugged his mother tighter. Sensing that they were now intruding on a rather personal moment, the three men went to leave but Isabelle wouldn't allow that.

"No, stay, stay! Look, see, I have already stopped crying! I want to find out more about the men my son has befriended! Especially you," Isabelle said with a wink towards Aramis. d'Artagnan looked scandalised.

"Mama, Aramis is nearly half your age!"

"And does that not mean I cannot have a little fun, especially after the extremely stressful time I've had no thanks to a certain son of mine?" Isabelle questioned her son with an eyebrow raised.

"Well, no…," d'Artagnan said, suitably guilt tripped,"but…"

"Then there is no problem!" She said brightly, ignoring d'Artagnan's horrified face. "Now come along, tell me everything that has happened…" Isabelle latched onto Aramis' arm and the two began walking off. d'Artagnan turned to Porthos and Athos with a pained expression.

Porthos grinned and clapped d'Artagnan on the back. "Come on; let's follow them, lest you start calling Aramis 'papa'".


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a long, long day. Isabelle had been incessant with her questions to the Musketeers and they had dutifully told her everything that had occurred since her boy had come to Paris, leaving out the distressing details of course. In return, Isabelle shared her own stories of d'Artagnan when he was a small lad which had made the young man blush profusely and given the Musketeers ammunition for teasing for years. Finally though, night fell and Isabelle was tired from her journey. d'Artagnan offered her his room but upon arrival to his room, Constance informed them that there was a spare one available for her to use for as long as she wished.

"She's a pretty one isn't she," Isabelle had said to her son with a wink when she saw the way d'Artagnan looked at Constance as she left to prepare the room. Before d'Artagnan could reply with an indignant response that was well rehearsed she left to wash up.

Now that his mother was away and occupied, d'Artagnan hesitantly turned to his friends.

"Alright, out with it. Tease me, taunt me, I know you want to," d'Artagnan said resignedly.

Porthos put on a face of mock innocence. "Why, I don't know what you're talking about! Why would we do such a thing? After all, don't all little boys scavenge through their belongings and try on their mother's make-up?"

Aramis couldn't hold in his laugh and soon enough Porthos joined him. Athos didn't laugh, but he smirked and his eyes betrayed his mirth. d'Artagnan huffed, his face turning red but he allowed them to have their fun. He would find a way to avenge himself of this humiliation one day; just let them wait and see.

"At least we didn't speak of Vadim," Athos consoled, once the laughs had died down. "I doubt your mother would be pleased to hear that you were tied to explosives."

d'Artagnan shuddered at the thought. "I suppose, you…"

"He was _what?" _

Unbeknownst to them, Isabelle had quickly returned downstairs to ask whether there were any toiletries she could use when she had come across the conversation. Unsurprisingly, what she heard was not something any mother wanted to hear, and so she wanted answers.

The four friends startled in surprise at the sound of her voice and they all turned to look at her with alarmed expressions.

"Oh hell," Porthos muttered.

"Mama, Athos was just joking…"

"Do not try that with me, my boy. I know the tone of a serious man and that man was not joking! Why were you trapped to explosives? How did you escape? Are you alright? Were you hurt? Why on Earth did you allow him to get tied to a bomb?!" Isabelle had rambled the majority of these questions, fussing over d'Artagnan and effectively trying to undress him so she could find any injuries, however the last was directed at the three men who were trying to make a quick escape.

"Why, of course we wouldn't allow him to get tied up on purpose," Aramis hastily assured the woman, once he realised retreat was not an option. "Our job isn't without risk as you know…d'Artagnan was merely doing his duty and as you can see he is perfectly fine…" Aramis turned pleading eyes on his friends but it seemed they were content to let Aramis handle this, though the word 'handle' was used loosely.

"_You let my son get tied to explosives!" _ Isabelle hissed, unimpressed with the excuse and advancing on Aramis who was looking more and more terrified. This was a far cry from the woman he had been playfully flirting with. This was a concerned, protective mother, more fearsome than any war-hardened soldier.

"Mama, please, I chose to get involved. If you blame anyone, blame me," d'Artagnan said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Isabelle shook it off. "Oh, don't think I'm not blaming you either young man. You, one again, have a lot of explaining to do, but that does not excuse the fact that these men almost let you die!"

"Please, madam, we did not leave d'Artagnan to die," Athos said, sensing that if anyone was likely to get through to this enraged woman, it was he. "We did not know where d'Artagnan was, and rest assured, had we known then we would have gone to him in an instant. Aramis is right, our job is not without risk and d'Artagnan will be in even more dangerous situations when he becomes an official Musketeer. It is something you will, unfortunately, have to come to terms with."

Isabelle narrowed her eyes at Athos who stared back unfazed, though his heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking.

"I am not an ignorant woman. I realise that my son does not have the safest occupation. It is something I came to terms with long ago when I realised he was too spirited and passionate to have a quiet, harmless job. It is just another thing to hear about it, to know how close my son came to death when to me he is still my little boy, _mon__trésor__. _I know you cannot promise me his safety, but regardless,it would be in your best interest to keep an eye on my son; otherwise you will have to answer to me."

d'Artagnan was not keen on his mother threatening his friends, even if it was strangely satisfying to see someone else on the other side of her anger. "Mother, I do not need a keeper. I am perfectly capable…"

"Quiet you," Isabelle interrupted before turning back to the three men. "Are we clear?"

Athos swallowed. "Perfectly."

"Good. Now, you young man, are coming with me and we are going to have a long talk about why you should not be tied to explosives and why if I do not hear from you at least every month to get an update as to what you have been up to I might very well move here!"

She grasped d'Artagnan by the ear and began to pull him towards her room, dismissing his whine of pain and dismayed cry of "mama!"

The mother and son left the room and the three Musketeers were left alone.

"I don't know about you," Porthos began, "but I think we need to lock d'Artagnan up somewhere so nothing can happen to him. That woman is absolutely terrifying, and I don't think I could handle her living here."

Aramis and Athos nodded. "Agreed."

And so whilst d'Artagnan was receiving the longest rebuke of his life, his three friends spent the night thinking of ways to make sure that they _never _got on the wrong side of Isabelle again.

* * *

_Mon __trésor__= My treasure _


End file.
